


Tales from the Recycle bin

by 00Wandering_Ghost00



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980's, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Angst, Band Member Feuds, Biker Gangs, Bikers, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drafts, F/M, Fanfic ideas that may be written, Fics that never be, Gen, M/M, Major Character Injury, Rock Bands, TURN characters in Pacific Rim universe, Teasers, Thrown Away Concepts, crossovers, failed fics, kitsch, music industry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-04-18 07:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Wandering_Ghost00/pseuds/00Wandering_Ghost00
Summary: As the title implies, this is nothing more than a collection of various "deleted scenes" or drafts of fanfiction I will never get myself to write properly. I just had to jump on the bandwagon with this one. :D





	1. This Corroded Valentine - Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A piece of my aborted fanfic that was the first I ever wrote for Turn. Contains a lot of elements from S4 E9, with the same title.

…

_“If I close my eyes forever… Will it all remain unchanged?”_

He didn’t feel his body for a moment. Then he was wide awake, and the harrowing sensations of his injuries all attacked his brain cells. He fell from the upper level to a pile of bricks, and according to his inability to breathe, he died… Or did he? He saw a small figure leaning over him, pale, with the same blue eyes and auburn hair he had, small hand reaching out to touch his face. _“Close your eyes for me… Come with me, John.”_ Not yet. He fought himself to his side, his legs not obeying. He couldn’t move his lower body, so he dragged himself away from the pile, which was painted red by his blood. He tried to get away from the ghost of his brother, and from Cabbage boy, whose footsteps he could hear approaching.

 

Abe rushed over to the edge of the railing, and looked down, seeing Simcoe writhing in agony. He ran to the stairs, but when he reached the ground floor and the brick pile, the Ranger was gone. Only a trail of blood indicated his direction. Abe picked up Simcoe’s .45 from the floor, and followed him. Sirens howled into the night, closing to the abandoned warehouse. The blood led Abraham to a wall, with Simcoe leaning against it, whimpering and still bleeding all over. He was clearly on the brink of death. His legs were in a weird angle… His whole lower body was in a weird angle. He’ll probably never sit on a bike again, if he’s lucky enough to be able to walk… Or if he’s lucky enough to live. “I hope it hurts like hell, you bastard.” Abe thought and raised his gun to finish the job. Yet… If he would just shoot Simcoe in the head, would he be any different than he is? Those blue eyes looked into his, begging for it. Abraham hesitated. He could hear the sirens. He heard the pained groaning of his victim, and saw the blood he coughed. He wasn’t a monster. The .45 ended up on the ground, and Abe picked up his phone, and called the ambulance. Then he left without even glancing at Simcoe.

 

_“If I close my eyes forever, will it all remain the same?”_

…

Hewlett was unsure why he was there at the hospital. He was supposed to be on his way to the airport, going home to his beloved wife and studies. Yet he was there, staring at the door, that led to the sickbed of the man he hated and yet still cared for in a weird way. First, he thought he’ll just help good ‘ole John pass to the other side, but when he entered the room, he changed his mind. Simcoe was just a shadow of himself, a wreck, still clinging to life. His hair overgrown, a few days without shaving left a nice amount of stubble on his face, and his eyes… Those cold, ice blue eyes were staring at the ceiling, hopelessly waiting for a cosmic force to end his suffering. Hewlett remembered the words he read on Simcoe’s medical report. His legs and his pelvic bone were broken, and he had an ungodly amount of luck to have his spine and skull intact from that fall into a pile of bricks from the upper story of a warehouse. Some of his ribs were also broken, and that; along with the bullet he took to his lungs, caused several internal injuries and internal bleeding. Yet the man survived somehow. He stopped next to Simcoe, who was breathing heavily, and slowly turned his head towards him. His face was still the usual expressionless mask. Or – Hewlett thought – he was drugged out of his mind. “It’s you again.” Simcoe managed to whisper. “What are you doing here, Major Oyster?” Hewlett sat down on the single chair next to the hospital bed. “I came here to end you, John. But I changed my mind.” “Why? Why let go of your only chance to kill the monster everyone fears?” Simcoe’s voice was low and without its usual trill. He sounded bitter. “As a matter of fact, I still want to kill you to some degree, but I know that there are punishments worse than death. And that our feud belongs in the past. The war is over, John.” Hewlett said patiently. Simcoe let out a short, jaded laugh. “Over? It never ends. It will always be with us, wherever we go.” Hewlett nodded. “True. But we must strive to use its memory to rebuild what was torn down. To avoid repeating the mistakes.” Simcoe frowned and slowly shook his head. “I’m having a headache, and you’re only making it worse.” “Well, I can say, after seeing you being mean and sarcastic, that you’re healing.” Hewlett smiled. Simcoe blinked. “If I promise that I’ll miss you, will you leave?” he asked. “I’m not done with you yet.” Hewlett answered. “Oh, dear…” Simcoe groaned. “Just leave me to suffer here, will ya? No more of your lectures about humanity and all that shit.” Hewlett was silent for a moment, but then he sighed and said “They will come to arrest you anyway, you know?” Simcoe wanted to shrug, but his body didn’t move, so he just turned his head away from Hewlett. “What do you care, Ed?” he asked. “More importantly, _why_ do you care?” “For all the despicable and messed-up things you had done in your entire life; I have to admit that there was one trait of you that I always found admirable.” Edmund answered. Simcoe’s face was occupied by his usual archaic smile. “You’re flattering me, Eddie.” “It was your quick wits. Sure, you’re prone to jump to the wrong conclusion, but still, you managed to pull a trick or two when it was needed.” Hewlett continued to speak without acknowledging what Simcoe inserted. The injured redhead’s eyes tightened. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I’m trying to help you get away from prison.” came the answer. Simcoe tried to laugh, but it turned out to resemble a mix between coughing and gasping for air. “You pretended to be insane once, to get away.” Hewlett said seriously. “Why not do it again?” Simcoe stopped his attempt at laughing. “To be thrown into the looney bin? No, thank you.” “You need treatment, and not punishment. I…ah… I came a long way to accept that.” Hewlett added, and was convinced about what he said. Simcoe smiled smugly, and looked back at him. “I know what you’re up to, Oyster!” he squeaked. “You’re deliberately torturing me from your high horse of morality. That, or you’re trying to murder me by boring me to death.” he shook his head. “From all the men I’ve forged from weaklings to warriors, you may have been my greatest creation.” Hewlett rolled his eyes. “Shut it Simcoe, or I swear I’ll gag you with that apple on the nightstand.” “What is that with your obsession to put things in my mouth? Is that a Freudian thing?” Simcoe asked mockingly. Hewlett stood up. “Choose the looney bin!” he said. “I’m not weak, like you. I won’t run and hide, or pretend to be something I’m not.” Simcoe hissed. “I’ll face whatever comes my way.” Hewlett nodded. “So be it. You dug your own grave, John. If you’re so determined to lay in it, who am I to stop you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo!  
> Well, the Easter Bunny did its one-day job this year, but sadly in exchange for chocolate effigies of itself, it took all my creative juices. So, until I can get them back, you'll get these excerpts and drafts of "fanfic that will never be".   
> If anyone wonders why did I abandon ship for TCV, is because I had other, (imho better) fanfics on my plate taking away time and energy to focus on, and I cringed myself through TCV one last time before deciding it's kinda time for it to lay down and die.   
> I will probably recycle some elements from it (as I did already with Simcoe riding around everywhere on a bike) or maybe, just maybe reboot the whole story after I refresh my knowledge on biker gangs and their ways of operating. (And when I have both the necessary time and energy).  
> Thank you for reading, and as always, I appreciate feedback, but it's entirely optional. :)


	2. Bayonets and Dandelions - Draft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a draft of a crossover I wanted to make. It would be like a mix between Turn and "Rock of Ages". Why did I abandon this? See my reasons at the end of the chapter.

The Concept:

The Revolution re-imagined in the 1980’s rock band era, with feuding managers and their problematic protégées, who want to make it big, or just want to fill the empty void in their hearts. It would contain appropriate lyrics, and also dialogue and a story to go along with everything.

 

The Bands and the Roles:

Culper Ring  
Abe (singer)  
Ben (bass)  
Caleb (guitar)  
Robert (drums)  
Manager: Washington  
Best selling album: "Eternity How Long"  
  
Anna's Dollhouse (formerly Philomena's Dollhouse)  
Anna (guitar)  
Mary (bass)  
Abby (drums)  
Philomena (singer)/Peggy (singer)/Anna   
Philomena leaves, and starts a solo career. Peggy replaces her, then she leaves too after she marries Arnold. Anna becomes the leader.  
Manager: Formerly Selah, actually Lafayette  
Best selling album: "Clean up your mess"  
  
Bayonets and Dandelions

John André (bass)  
John Simcoe (singer/songwriter)  
Akinbode (guitar)  
Falkoff (drums)  
Manager: Hewlett  
Best selling album: "Poisoned Apple" (There are multiple, referenced later, "White Horse", "Stampede", and "Bad Blood" are songs from PA)  


Others:

Robert Rogers (owner of the "Revolver Room" club, which is about to close due to debt, and he hopes to save it by hosting BnD's last concert before they disband for good.)   
Lola (Burned out strip-dancer, who eventually falls for Simcoe)  


The Story:

\- LA somewhere in the late 1980's. Managers of three bands get together and talk about the bands they manage, what they want to do, and that the rock genre is dying.  
\- Hewlett has problems with Simcoe, who is burned out, been in prison more times than he can count, addicted to alcohol and various drugs, and struggles with his seemingly depleted creative juices. The band members of BnD are against each other (Simcoe jokes it should be renamed "Snakepit"), and seeks to overthrow the reign of the "mad dog", or disband. Hewlett tries to save the band by firing Simcoe and hiring Arnold, the former singer and guitarist of the now disbanded "Saratoga". But it ends horribly, the fans hate the change, and so do the band members.   
\- After Arnold snatches his girlfriend, Peggy, André plots to get her back, but he ends up in a car crash.  
\- Anna finds herself in a tough situation. Her own band went through some member changes, and now that Peggy is marrying, she wants to leave them, so she has to take things to her own hands, which coincides with the intentions of their manager. She's also in a feud with Mary, who knows Anna sleeps with her husband, Abe, who is a member of a new, fairly unknown band. The Dollhouse is about to collapse on Anna's head, and if it wasn't enough, she is stalked by a lovestruck Simcoe. In order to regain some control of her life, she acts like she's okay with riding away with the troublesome frontman of BnD, but she only uses him and pushes him away, gaining his enmity.   
\- Abe gets an ultimatum from Mary, either he ceases his affair with Anna, or she'll divorce and move away from him along with their mutual child. Abe is tormented, and doesn't know what to do.   
\- Culper Ring gets the chance to play in the well-known club, The Revolver Room, and they really don't want to screw it if they ever want to make it big. They get to play as an opening act before the last concert of Bayonets 'N' Dandelions, and at first, it goes horribly. Simcoe comes back, demanding that he'd be re-throned as frontman of B'N'D, claiming to Hewlett that he's nothing without him.   
\- The show in The Revolver Room gets delayed because of André's fatal car accident, so Rogers hire Culper Ring to perform in their stead for the night. The longer the audience hears them, the less they hate them. They still wait DnB's farewell concert eagerly.   
\- Hewlett has to sort things out within the band he manages, so he gives one last chance for Simcoe. If he can co-operate with Arnold, who gets the role of the late André, he can stay in the band. If not, he's out for good. Meanwhile, Hewlett and Anna gets a little closer, but it also ends badly, with Anna only using Hewlett to be able to get back in the spotlight. Angst, drama and an abundance of friendly betrayals.

\- Simcoe finds himself in the arms of a burned out strip-dancer, who’s just as tired of life as he is, and they decide to run away together.

\- Culper Ring is on its way to fame and fortune, but the members have to face some harsh realities about the music industry. Abe wants out, Ben is feuding with their manager Washington, and wants to take control in their own hands, while Caleb just goes with the flow and tries to see the good side, which in Robert’s eyes, doesn’t even exist.

\- Meanwhile, Revolver Room faces a court order to be closed because of debts the owners can’t seem to pay. Anna finds the way out of her frustrating situation by buying them out of their debts, and hosting what she labels “the biggest party of the decade”.

\- All is good in the end, Abe and Mary reconciles, Simcoe gets back on stage for one last time before marrying Lola in Vegas, Culper Ring becomes the next big hit band, and Arnold gets in jail because of tax evasion. Also, the managers get what they wanted, and Anna gets ownership of the Revolver Room.

 

The “Historical” background:

\- Bayonets ‘N’ Dandelions is based on Guns ‘N’ Roses, a well-known

hard rock band that had its prime in the late 1980’s. (If you want to know the whole story, look them up on Google.) (Fun fact: Simcoe’s joke “Rename it to “Snakepit”, is an allusion to a bit of “history”, namely that after G’N’R disbanded, one of the former band-members made his own band called “Slash’s Snakepit”. ‘Cause he loved snakes. In the story, the name implies the venom and intrigue of the band-members of B’N’D against each other.)

\- Also, the portrayal of “Anna’s Dollhouse” is a mix of various influential female rock-musicians, many of whom are still active to this day.

\- The story itself is very similar to “Rock of Ages”, a musical that was turned into a movie around 2010-2011, and aside from who hated it and who loved it (me falling into the latter category because you know… awesome music?) it also depicted a fairly plausible picture of the music industry in the late ‘80’s – early ‘90’s, when bigheads thought they can get no more milk from rock, so they pushed rap into its place.

\- I actually did research for this one. I’m just too damn lazy to list everything in here. Especially for an abandoned piece.

Speaking of which:

 

The reason I abandoned this project:

How the hell you write a musical into prose without ruining it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about “leaving comfort zones” and trying new and challenging things to write, but I don’t want to let works under a certain quality get out under my hands. (I did that with a few fics written on a whim. Ew. *shudders* )

I really, really wanted to write this. I might still end up writing this someday, when my skills will be much more polished and I mastered the art of word-weaving to the point where I’m able not to screw this up perfectly. (So at this rate: Never.)

Also, no notes, since this piece is a big note. XD (or big "nope" for some).

Anyway, if you can help me with some ideas, I might end up giving it a shot, also name you as my co-conspirator, or just credit you, whichever you choose. And I'll send you cookies.


	3. Haywired - Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two scenes that didn't make it in my sort-of dark comedy fic, "Haywired". The first one got axed because of being too stereotypical. I also sincerely apologise if that offends you, and would make a disclaimer that I by no means want to hurt or belittle or harm anyone by any characterisation. This is supposed to be comedy, and as such, relies on stereotypical or exaggerated elements sometimes. Thank you for your understanding.  
> The second part was doomed to be taken out because it would derail the main narrative too much.

Edmund:

…

Everything was just fine, until I heard that blood-curdling falsetto behind me. “Nice skirt, Ed.” I immediately turned around, and looked up at his sneer. “It’s a kilt.” I corrected. Simcoe nodded. “Of course.” I really didn’t have time for his shenanigans, so I turned my back at him once again, and was about to head to my office, when I heard him again. “And will you throw logs around as well? ‘Cause in case you will, I shall find adequate shelter.” I raised my eyes to the ceiling, and shook my head. The man annoyed me to no end. It was about time someone made him shut up. For most of the day, I took care of my work, and tried to forget whatever insults Simcoe threw at my general direction whenever our paths crossed, but – and I must express that I’m not proud of it – I got fed up with it around 2 pm. The last drop was when I stood in queue for buying my lunch, and suddenly felt someone flip my kilt up. Of course, it was Simcoe. And lucky for both of us, I had my underwear on, disregarding the umbrage of my ancestors. Still, the people in the cantina were baffled, and some of them were hiding their laughs behind newspaper or hands. I was livid. I was going to make him pay for what he had done. So I went, and searched for a log, big enough, but still not too heavy for me to throw. And since he was successful in destroying my virtual horse, I thought doing the same to his mechanical one would suffice as payback. The crash was loud, and it also woke me up from my childish glee. I destroyed someone’s property, that will probably cost a fortune to repair, if that even possible. I fled the scene before anyone saw me, but felt guilty. I swore to him that I will never sink to his level. That I can beat him in his own game without it. Yet, what I had done just minutes ago, proved otherwise. Either John was a bad influence on me, or some other dark force of the universe found its way to test my resolve, I don’t know. But there was no way back. And I was sure that he’ll find out sooner or later.

 

John:

...

Next thing I heard was an eerily familiar tune coming from the office. I nearly had a panic-attack, when the words became understandable, and I recognized the angelic voice singing the horrible lyric I committed against humanity as a certain miss Philomena Cheer’s.

_„…Just say how far can I fall?_  
I'm so disillusioned with this lie  
A siren song of hate and ire  
That started out as soft desire  
  
If you want to go, just get out  
I'm so sick and tired of trying  
Just say, how loud should I shout?  
You never hear a goddamn thing…”

I rushed through the door, and there it was, sitting on Edmund’s desk. An old CD, with a picture of four angsty teens, all dressed in black, staring gloomily at the world with their smeared black eyeliner and weird hair. Ed looked up at me from the booklet he was probably reading through… Luckily most of the contents were made by my fellow John, and not me. “Where did you…?” I tried to ask. Ed pointed at his monitor. “E-bay.” came the answer. I seriously have to hunt down all of the remaining copies of this monstrosity and destroy them for good. “Queens men” Edmund read the lamest band name in history out loud. “I have to say I find your old music a bit interesting. Not a spectacular work of art, but interesting.” He looked at me. “And I mean it in the least offensive way.” I walked over and stopped the playlist that kept going on from “Song for Sally”, to “Mischianza”, and with them, stopped the memories as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again if it was offensive, it was not my intention at all! Also, horrible poem was made by me. ("Mischianza" is a play(?) written by John André. The other title also refers to the valentine John Graves wrote for Sarah "Sally" Townsend.)  
> Also, there will be elements recycled from it, but not the kilt. :)  
> Update on Haywired is on its way, and hopefully I can upload it on this weekend, or somewhere early next week!


	4. Andromeda's Shell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you read that right. I abandoned that fic, and want to give anyone who was interested in reading it the draft of what would it be about. I'm sorry, and I know I shouldn't even begin to write that in the first place, but sometimes you take a bigger bite than what you can chew.

You can read the first two chapters of the fic [here,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964359/chapters/34679000) as long as I don't delete it.

 

So, below are the chapters with titles and a short summary of what would they contain if I wouldn't be so damn lazy to write them properly. (Or were a better writer, but alas I am not.):

 

**CH 3: Power Surge**

New threats need new weapons, so Hewlett and the other scientists are hurried to find out everything possible of the new kind of Kaiju. Hewlett predicts the attacks to grow in frequency and numbers. Meanwhile protesters gather around a wall, and another Kaiju attack happens, Jaegers rush to the scene only to leave the Shatterdome almost unprotected. Another attack aims at the Shatterdome, and Hewlett and Anna forge a quick Drift-bond in an attempt at saving the Shatterdome. The Kaiju they face called “Power Surge” is a tricky one though, it emits EMP, and shuts down Hewlett and Anna's Jaeger. Before it could deliver the final blow, the _Redflag Ranger_ and the _Screaming Eagle_ appear and ends it. Simcoe uses the incident to undermine Hewlett's authority, claiming he couldn't protect the Shatterdome by himself, even if he had the most high-tech Jaeger and a very talented pilot. Anna tries to save Hewlett's reputation and tells Simcoe off. Hewlett consults with Washington about the case. Akinbode requests his transfer.

 

**CH 4: Severed**

Anna starts her training as a Jaeger pilot, and she wonders if she's drift-compatible with anyone. So far she didn't seem to be on the same tune with anyone, but she remembers that their emergency drift with Hewlett worked surprisingly well. She hears about Akinbode's transfer though and it makes her feel concerned. Sadly, her fears come true, for after a quick sparring it turns out that her and Simcoe are compatible, and he - surprise, surprise - lacks a drift-partner. Anna gets the coe-pilot* seat of the _Redflag Ranger_ , and she couldn't be less happy about it. Their test-drift ends up with her surprise, for after seeing into his head (and ending up chasing his rabbit down the hole), she realises that Simcoe might not exactly be the man he shows himself to be. A level 5 Kaiju, Leviathan appears, and all Jaegers are directed towards it, only the _Colossus_ stays to guard the Shatterdome. The _Redflag_ suffers a fatal blow in the fight, and Simcoe launches Anna with an escape pod, before submerging into the ocean. The _Screaming Eagle_ picks her up and returns with her to the Shatterdome.

(*pun intended)

 

**CH 5: Redflag Redemption**

Anna is safe, Ben and Caleb are back on duty, Abe and Mary try to offer her some measure of comfort, but she wants none of it. Anna finds Major Hewlett grieving, and she has a disturbing fragment of Simcoe's memory in her mind that make her feel that she knows why. She tries to convince him to be her co-pilot, but Hewlett refuses, claiming he's needed in the lab. Anna consoles him, and he confesses that he has some growing fondness for her, and also tells her about their mutual past with Simcoe, that led into a disaster by the loss of the Jaeger " _Unhinged Foxtrot_ " they piloted together, along with Hewlett's toes on his right foot, forcing him to do office duty for the rest of his life. Ben and Caleb in the meantime gets to fight a Kaiju named Ballhead, and return to base safely. A signal comes in, and to everyone's surprise, it turns out to be the _Redflag Ranger_... At least what's left of it. Simcoe is on the verge of death, but he managed to get to the shore before passing out and falling to a coma, he’ll supposedly never awake from again. Ironically, this deed grants a grudging respect for the captain, and a promotion, for the only man who could ever pilot a Jaeger on his own was no other than Marshal Washington... or at least he's the only one who's still here to tell the tale about it.

 

**CH 6: Andromeda’s Shell**

Hewlett agrees to be Anna's co-pilot after they get a new Jaeger... which is rather old, but has analog systems, so it's quasi-immune to the EMP emission of the newest Kaiju. They team-up with the _Screaming Eagle_ and _Colossus Shell_ , and Anna has the honor of naming her giant metal shell. She chooses the name " _Andromeda Tenacity_ " because of Hewlett's fascination with stars and her determination. They get to go to battle against another level 5 Kaiju, Leviathan’s clone which got dubbed “Nodachi”. The war will never end or so it seems… End notes of the science team finding a way to close the rift, and thus ending the Kaiju war.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you see the whole concept was not worth writing, and I don't think I'll ever get myself to do it. I educated myself on Pacific Rim lore a bit, but still found the story to be repetitive and boring, so after I spent a few days thinking about whether or not should I scrap the fic, I decided that I have better things to do. And other fics to write.   
> I'm sorry if you were among the few people who liked the first two chapters, I uploaded the draft for your sake, so you'll have some sense of conclusion, knowing how the rest of the fic would go if I would write it. (Imagine some cringe worthy dialogues and kitschy, over-emotional narrative and a metric shit-ton of terms I got wrong or unfamiliar, because I took everyone's knowledge of both fandoms for granted, and you'll get the whole picture.)


	5. Haywired - Sneak Peek!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, today is the 1st year anniversary of TURN's series finale. I wanted to commemorate it somehow, so I decided to put a little glimpse of my currently only -work-in-progress fanfic for it. So, this chapter is different in a meaning that it is not something I will scrap, rather a little spark of hope, that joining the fandom and finding the wonderful writers whose stories I follow ever since means to me. :)   
> And now that we're talking about it: Dear favourite people of mine (you know who you are), I haven't forgotten you, I just have very little time and a metric s**t-ton of work to do, but as soon as it will be possible, I'll go and read all of your updates that has been cumulating in my bookmarks, and give you a comment or two! Just be patient with me! ^^

I woke up to the sound of something clanking in the kitchen. I opened my eyes, and saw that Ed’s place in the bed is empty. One glimpse of the clock on my phone informed me it was the ungodly hour of 3:30 in the morning, so I got up with a groan. Something wasn’t right. I found my better half sitting on his usual barstool, munching on the cinnamon roll I bought him yesterday. “What’s up?” I asked. He was startled, probably not expecting me to show up. “I uh… Nothing, I just had a nightmare.” He waved his hand dismissingly. Now I had to live my life suffering from intense nightmares ever since I was ten, so I thought I might help him get through it. “Wanna tell me about it?” I asked, and occupied the other barstool next to his, while pulling my wine-red robe closer. “You were in it.” he confessed sheepishly. I couldn’t help, but smile. “Well, I guess it was an interesting dream then.” Edmund looked at me and shuddered. “I had to kill you.” I raised my brow. “Really now?” Ed sighed, and put his half cinnamon roll down. “I was going out fishing, but instead of the lake, I ended up in an abandoned old asylum of sorts, and you were there, wearing that torn hospital gown, and your leg was broken. And then I went over to you, and you were a zombie and you attacked me, so I had to put you down with a hammer…” He stopped, because I was laughing too hard. “It wasn’t nice; it was bloody… Why are you laughing?” I couldn’t breathe for a second, then I just patted him on his shoulder. “My leg is fine.” I said. “And it was only a dream, Ed. Better not watch a horror movie with me next time.” I remembered the zombie plus abandoned asylum stuff from that piece of popular culture we saw together a few days prior. “John, I’m not the kind of person, who gets nightmares from a movie.” he sighed. “Besides, we saw “Grave Encounters” last week. It would give me nightmares right away, wouldn’t it?” I shook my head, leaned closer, and held him. “It’s okay.” I whispered. “It’s over now. I’m definitely not a zombie, will not eat your brain, and please don’t use that hammer to take me down unless I ask for it.” I felt his hand on my back, as he hugged me. “I didn’t want to wake you up…” he muttered. “Nah. You know I always wake up early.” I shrugged. “You’re the sleepy head, Sleepy Ed.” I felt him shiver. “No, I guess I don’t really want to sleep again. Like, ever.” I sighed. “Want me to sing you a lullaby?” Ed was silent, then he burst out laughing. “Sorry, but I just imagined you, sitting on the edge of the bed and singing “Twinkle, twinkle, little star” or something for me.” I pretended to be offended, and pulled back, giving him a dirty look. “You question my singing talents?” I asked on a higher tone than usual. Ed chuckled. “I ah… I guess if you’d sing me a lullaby, that would just be enough fuel for another nightmare, is all…” True, I was always better with poetry than singing. No wonder the band I was playing in as a teenager broke up without ever getting noticed. “You wrong me, sir.” I commented, and turned away. I even managed to pout. “Isn’t it too early for being this sassy?” Ed asked after I stood up and proceeded to wrap my robe around my freezing self. It stuck on my rear side. I gave Ed a flat look, then replied. “If you can’t handle the sass, you can’t handle this ass!” then pointed at said part of me before leaving the stage. I guess my attempt at distracting him from the after-effects of his nightmare worked, because I heard him make an irritated sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness, but I didn't want to give too much away. ;) See you again soon-ish! 
> 
> Notes:  
> \- Grave Encounters is a horror movie with a fairly decent plot and scary ghosts. (Only the first episode though. The rest are trash.)   
> \- Edmund's nightmare is loosely based on my friend's. Be careful for what you tell me, it might end up in fiction! ;) (J/K, I rarely incorporate stories my friends or acquaintances tell me, especially if it's personal. I changed a lot of my friend's dream here too, and she commented on it but didn't seem to mind, so I guess we're cool here.)


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